It finally happened:
She broke.
It was different than she thought it would be.
She had thought
It would be like
Uncontrollable bouts of crying;
Waves of restricted breathing;
A feeling of falling down an empty hole.

But it wasn’t.
It was more like
Even though it was
Plainer than day,
It was different than before.
She didn’t throw everything out
That reminded her of the person–
She couldn’t.
How could she destroy
The memory of the soul
Who changed her life?

On second thought,
I don’t think she broke.
I think . . .
I think a part of her died.


Is says on the packaging

That my mascara is


But it isn’t.

As I cry

My tears scrape up the

Black ash

And smear it beneath my eyes,

Publicly displaying

My dismal position.




Yeah right.


A lot of things aren’t waterproof.

Some things dissolve in water,

Gone in a second.

But we need water to survive.


I’m waterproof.

But what I’m not is




I climb to great heights

And then


My packaging didn’t say life proof.

But I wish it had.

‘Cuz it hurts

So bad.